“Good for the Don, getting out.” Was that something like loyalty he was getting off of Zsasz? Huh.

He could say something in return, even if it wasn’t much. From Daud, any offer of unprompted personal information was a rarity consciously given.

“It’s been a long time since I worked for anyone outside a contract.” Since before the Mark, and even then he’d never stayed with one employer long. “I can’t imagine really working under any of my clients. Bunch of frothing rich bastards.”

His clients. Unaware of what they asked or what he could do. Knowing only that they wanted their way and had the money to get it. And what were they going to do without him? Higher lesser men, sloppier assassins who may or may not get the job done. Hell. Maybe some of his Whalers would start taking hits of their own. There was an uneasy feeling behind that thought, something torn between revulsion and pride. Just look at what he’d done. Just look at all of it.

Shit. He couldn’t think about that. Daud took another draw on the cigarette, turned his eyes back to Zsasz.

“I appreciate the information. Gives a newcomer a little more to build from.”